No More Last Name
by Bonnie E
Summary: A young, pacifist king doesn't realize the dangers of ignoring the threat of the new leader of Aronia.


_My name is Chusen, and I used to have a last name. Not anymore.  
It will always be my fault. It will always weigh on my soul. My mistake.  
Is it really so wrong to desire to live in peace?_

The Kingdom of Arengard  
IS -5

Chusen Bustad was a relatively young king. His father had departed the world three years before, leaving him in charge of the Kingdom of Arengard, the small nation their family had ruled for centuries. Chusen was proud of his kingdom's position as a pacifist nation. They had managed to keep peace with their many larger neighbours by remaining neutral in all conflicts.

Arengard bordered Aronia, a large country with a strongly broken government. However, despite the leader Troy Aron being truly devilish, they had always left Arengard alone, respecting its position.

It hadn't been much of a surprise when a resistance to Troy Aron's leadership had risen from the shadows, led by a mysterious man named Hikusaak. He had gathered an army of warriors for the cause of overthrowing the corrupt leadership in Aronia. Chusen did secretly have mixed feelings about it, but he stood by his country's stance of neutrality. His Parliament, however, felt differently. They wanted Arengard to form a defense force, which he would have nothing of. Chusen had spent weeks listening to the nobles slowly become more frantic about it, and he knew very well who had stirred things up.

Governor Ernest Rice had been a loud opponent for arming Arengard. He had married into an Arengard noble family, but his family had been from Wellard, a strong military power to the west of Aronia. Of course armament would be his natural reaction to problems. Chusen found him bothersome.

Governor Rice had demanded an audience with his liege that evening, so Chusen pulled himself from his peace to meet him in his sitting room. He knew very well what it was going to be about, and he wasn't pleased he was being interrupted in the evening - one of the few times in the day he found time to enjoy beautiful things – words, art, nature. That evening specifically, a magnificent sunset that painted the sky golden. Chusen never liked a good sunset interrupted, but he supposed he did have a duty.

Edward Rice had begun his tirade with a high level of indignation in his tone. "Master Bustad, I'm not quite sure what you're thinking. But I absolutely implore you to reconsider putting together a defense force. Sitting here doing nothing is risky. We know nothing about this Hikusaak, except the rumour he bears _that _True Rune. That in itself is troubling enough."

Chusen had heard the rumours about the Circle Rune. There had been 27 True Runes formed at the creation of the world – one half being born from the Sword, the other from the Shield. But the number was uneven. Rumour had it the Circle Rune was the 'spare' - aligned with either both Sword and Shield or neither. Certainly if it were any other way, there would be unbalance in the world. But it had always been pure speculation.

"I'm not afraid of a True Rune, Ernest. Not even the Circle Rune."

"Nor am I, Master Bustad. It is the man who wields it that concerns me."

"I have heard nothing ill of Hikusaak."

"Exactly! We haven't heard anything about him either way. Now yes, if rumours were that he was a good, fair man, then I'd agree with your position. But the fact nobody speaks of him either way leads me to question whether there is simply nothing spectacular about him, or the fact they are afraid to speak of him."

Indeed, Hikusaak was an enigma. Despite his high position as leader of the Resistance Army, not much was known about him.

"You worry too much, Ernest. I think Hikusaak deserves a chance to prove to us he is honest and good. That's how you would wish to be treated, is it not?"

Ernest let out a frustrated sigh and turned toward the fire raging in the fireplace. "Every country around us is prepared for the worst. Even Livordia. _Livordia_, sir. The _holy lands themselves_ are prepared to defend themselves if need be. You ignoring this is just madness!"

Chusen turned from the Governor. "I've made my decision, Ernest. In fact, I plan on having an audience with Hikusaak as soon as he is settled in the throne. There is no reason why I shouldn't reach out to him. It seems as if all he will meet with from the rest of the surrounding region is hostility so perhaps my greeting will be refreshing."

Ernest made a noise to express his utter disgust. "Well then - it will be your head if things go badly! The blood of each and every one of your people will be on your hands if he decides to march in and take this kingdom for himself!"

* * *

_The blood of each and every one of your people will be on your hands…_

If only Chusen had known.

Days had passed. Hikusaak ascended the throne of Aronia, and things seemed to settle down. The nations around Arengard were reluctant to let their guard down, but Chusen extended his hand in peace. Treaties were signed. Agreements were made. But it had ended up meaning absolutely nothing.

Hikusaak had proven to be very ambitious. Not a man to be trusted. He didn't care about Arengard's edicts and neutrality. It had been his plan all along to expand his territory.

Arengard had been an easy target. Unexpectedly one afternoon, Parliament had been invaded and many of the noble men slaughtered before Chusen's eyes. There had been no mercy, despite the lack of resistance. However, for whatever reason, Hikusaak had allowed him to live and watch his beloved nation fall before his eyes.

Arengard lost its identity in the space of hours. Chusen Bustad also lost his. His kingdom gone, his castle in ruins, his reputation as a leader destroyed, his people would now suffer the tyranny of Hikusaak and his conquest to steal all he touched.

Maybe if they had just put up a fight, they might have had a chance…

* * *

The days, weeks, months that followed were a blur to Chusen. He wandered without destination, without purpose. It was an empty existence.

_It was all my fault,_ Chusen thought. I_ never should have trusted Hikusaak. I should have listened to Governor Rice. I shouldn't have just stood there and let it happen. At least that way, my people would know I cared about them. As it stands, they hate me. I am disgraced – exiled._

The village Chusen stumbled upon in his wandering was far north and west of what had once been known as Arengard. He didn't know how many other kingdoms he had crossed in getting there, and he found he no longer cared. He had nothing left. No reason to go on living. But he was a coward – too fearful to take his own life. So he merely wandered alone, hoping somehow the world would be merciful and find an easy end to his pain.

Toki Village was small and quaint, bordering a dense forest. But he wasn't there for sightseeing – it had been the rumours whispered about in surrounding towns that had led him there. People often disappeared in the woods, and it was rare for anyone to make it out again. That interested him. Maybe he could disappear, too. So he entered without a second thought.

A full night and day fell over the forest. Wracked with hunger and almost faint with thirst and chilled to the core by the winter cold, Chusen understood how people would never escape it. There was no way he could turn back – he had traveled so deep inside that no paths led back to the village. The canopy was so thick and the sky was invisible. Even if he had experience with navigation, it would have been difficult to find his way.

Weak, he lied on the forest floor, unable to go further. It was the end. He wouldn't survive much longer. He closed his eyes. It was fitting, he supposed – a leader of a lost nation, forgotten in a secluded wood far from his disgrace. It was how he wanted it to be. He didn't want to exist anymore.

Moisture passed his lips and he found himself sipping from the flask, slow at first, until his body reflexively began gulping the cold water.

"Come now…wake up…"

The voice was unexpected. Even in his daze, it seemed eerily real. But no, there was no way it was. This was certainly a hallucination brought on by impending death.

"There you are," the voice said.

No, it was certainly real – his mind felt clearer from drinking the water. He opened his eyes and was shocked to see a young woman staring down at him. She held him in her arms, but despite the contact, she was as cold as the air around him.

"What's going on?" It was the first thing he could think to ask. "Why are you saving me? I deserve to die…"

"That's what we all say at first," said the voice. "I know you want to die for whatever it is you've done, or what's happened to you. Those are the only kinds of people who come into this forest ill-prepared and defenseless. I'm Katha, by the way," she smiled. "It's our mission to try and convince you to stay."

Stay? Why would he want to stay?

"We're a village of outcasts," Katha said. "We've all done something we're ashamed of, or that made us feel life wasn't worth living. But by coming here, each one of us still had a tiny piece of ourselves that didn't really want to go - a hope that maybe these woods weren't truly an end. Of course, the choice is still completely up to you."

It did make sense, after all. He had been unable to actively end his life, instead choosing this passive, uncertain method. Maybe he didn't truly desire to die after all.

"Why should I live, having so many people's blood on my hands?" It was a simple question. Not that he expected an answer – after all, this woman – Katha? Whatever her name was – likely didn't know what had happened to his kingdom.

"That's something you will have to come to terms with on your own, if you want to. But here, we are not our pasts. It can all be forgotten."

Was it true? Here, could he truly forget? Truly become someone else?

"Then no judgement takes place? We start fresh?"

"Completely fresh. We don't talk about it if we don't want. Many of us don't. And we don't ask, either. Also, we are given time to atone if we need to."

It was something to hold on to. Perhaps that was all he wanted – a place where nobody knew who he was, where nobody knew his mistake. And some time to make up for his mistake.

"I'm Chusen B-" He stopped himself. He wasn't a king anymore. He wasn't a noble anymore. He was nothing, insignificant. "Just Chusen."

"Well, Chusen…if you'd like to stay, then I'll take you to the village. Sierra will explain everything else."

* * *

_My name is Chusen, and I used to have a last name. Not anymore._

_ Was I foolish to lose it? Perhaps. __But I hold no regret. It was not my error._ What happened in Arengard couldn't be helped. It's taken me a long time to realize it, but this village has given me the clarity of mind to realize it.

_ I can't thank Elder Sierra enough for giving us all this place to heal our hearts. Mine is still a bit broken, but I have lots of time. I have all the time in the world._

END

* * *

A/N: I wrote this for Suikoden Day 2012. It's actually a much shorter version of a longer story I'll probably eventually write. The whole situation in Arengard was actually far more complex and complicated. Chusen was actually overthrown in a coup organized by Edward Rice and other members of his Parliament, who then proceeded with an all-out assault against Hikusaak, which obviously didn't go very well. But with a 2000 word limit I really had no time to put it all in. So I created this short version.

A companion story to this one will probably be going up in a couple days which features the second resident of Arengard who made it to Vampire Village. She's also the last person Sierra found in her mission to destroy the defectors of her village. I just need to read it over one more time and tweak a couple things. Then it will be up here.

Also, the word count here is 32 words longer than on my Word file. The word count on the main file is 1999 (one short of the limit!) Here it says 2031, less this author's note. What's up with that? The words are exactly the same. I don't get it, . Oh, well.


End file.
